With a double cross from Bill Lawrence, we did not go to Ravena, but
instead, followed the Karnes lead vehicle south on Rt 32. No, despite the
misleading directionals, we were not going to Fernwood on a Sunday night. No El
Rancho either. We turned right on 212, and we guessed the few likely spots in
that direction; a left turn took us to New World Home Cooking Co. just before Woodstock. Upside: The place was,.. well,… interesting, maybe
groovy, and probably cool. The concept is new wave, new age, Woodstocky, slow
food, clean food, hip menu, more vegetarian, etc. Sometimes, that can be good,
and sometimes, well, suspect. This was interesting-good, perhaps a notch below
our top ratings, but a worthy visit and enterprise.
The entrees selected were
two baby back ribs, one Ropo Viejo (Cuban pot roast), one salad with shrimp, one
double pork chop and an ahi tuna. A variety of spices, black beans, brown rice,
squash, and spinach dotted some of our plates. All were declared good, although
four of the plates were deemed warm, not hot. Fortunately, Deb K’s was hot
(the plate!). Also, despite our temptations, Tim did not order the tapas menu.
Our libations included two
bottles of Benzinger Reserved Merlot (good to excellent rating from the four
drinkers), a mango drink, and a margarita (see below). No after dinner drinks
were asked for.
The ambience was an
eclecticism born of wild, natural, contemporary, and bright. Bright swirls of
oranges, yellows, reds covered the table tops. Wall hangings and paintings were
semi-minimalist, semi-scenic, and the four foot hanging by our table was a
peasant woman working naturally in her kitchen with natural foods. (Did I say
“nature”?) The music resonated of native Central or South American with a
mix of Randy Newman. (Did I say, eclectic? It was party-like, light-hearted and
jovial, never intrusive.)
Swishing you in the face as
you entered was a noisy dining room squeezed against an active bar. Fortunately,
the room beyond was spacious and a round table (our favorite, I think), in a
corner awaited us, with banks of tall windows separating the darkness on two
sides of us.
Deserts were requested by
only two: a bowl of raspberries with fresh cream for Judy (I think I heard a
moan, rather low and sensual sounding, but then again, I am not a fine arbiter
of such sounds.) and a wheat free, gluten-something chocolate cake with
raspberry sauce. The raspberry sauce made the brick-like, very dense (it was ok)
cake reasonably palatable.
Service was efficient,
friendly, informative, with a few different young men clearing or delivering
dishes. Most notable was the busboy who balanced one tray while picking up
another full round tray with wrist strength. (Tom and Tim, do you think the
ogling from the women meant anything else?) And the final bill was in our middle
range.Downside: DP8 was DP6 for this evening, with the
Monteverds needing to yield to other interests. DP6 had an enjoyable time but we
definitely would have preferred to be DP8. Second, not that we can do anything
about it, but it’s getting darker earlier, and we needed jackets, a reminder
that the “w” word is soon upon us. Another small spot on the evening was
Judy’s $11 Margarita that none of us liked. Fortunately, it was returned
graciously.
.....